


Tricks Of The Trade

by taichara



Category: Final Fantasy: Brave Exvius
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-09-06 06:47:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16827319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taichara/pseuds/taichara
Summary: Expeditions are convenient ways to discover new things, in more ways than one.





	Tricks Of The Trade

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kalloway](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalloway/gifts).



The one thing about their merry little band of misfits, Lasswell noted -- and not for the first time -- was that not a one of them dealt with inactivity all that great. Which was why he was volunteering his time in smallquest after smallquest, hunting monsters and tracking down miscreants, because it was better than chewing his own arm off or falling apart in despair. They'd saved Lapis. _Rain_ saved Lapis. So why did he have to just ... _disappear_ like that? Didn't they all deserve better --

_Stop. Stop it right there. That's not helping._

_Rae- Father is making arrangements and we'll be on our way soon enough, and in the meantime there's still things I can do, even if it's small things._

It did help, thinking of it that way. He was more than willing to admit that much. And it wasn't as if he was alone on these little excursions, either ...

-*-

"I am going to maintain until the day I die that I shall never understand why some people ask for these things. Truly, truly."

In the silence after combat and cleanup, Noel's burr caught Lasswell's attention instantly. Not that Noel seemed terribly aggrieved to be hoisting sloughed-off scales and a few severed wingtips, neatly bagged in burlap (it was a very special sort of 'cleanup' they'd signed up to do), into Rangifer's compact cargo space. To the contrary, he sounded -- and looked -- downright entertained by the entire enterprise. Well, good enough then. At least he was taking the expedition itself seriously enough, which was more than Lasswell generally expected from, say, Rain ...

... Oh. Oh, _there_ was a pang. It was a long time since he'd gone off on any kind of mission without Rain; he'd managed to not think about it for the last several days, too occupied by hunting the beasties down, learning the terrain, and -- a bit of a surprise here -- finding himself on the receiving end of impromptu instructions in the basic care and maintenance of magitek armour. Noel had been quite insistent on that last, pointing out that as an airship captain it would be useful tidbits for Lasswell to know.

_And he was right, of course. I need to make it up to him before we head back into town. I want to make it good, more to the point._

Lasswell slowed his trimming of another pair of wingtips, watching Noel hauling the remaining carcasses into the brush, branches skidding almost musically across the man's own armour. Noel was a good friend, a _dear_ friend; one who offered all that he could without a moment's hesitation ...

The lingering, phantom taste of blood on Lasswell's lips was proof enough of that.

He hadn't thought he'd ever get used to sharing that secret with anyone but Rain, either. But it happened through no fault of his own and Noel -- Noel didn't flinch. Not in the knowing, not in dealing with it.

What that meant, and what it _could_ mean, Lasswell pushed firmly out of mind. The downed monsters weren't going to trim and skin themselves, after all, he had work to do and shouldn't be mooning around like some half-trained cadet --

Besides, he had a plan to work on.

-*-

_He's gotten himself flustered over something again._

With his share of the carcasses neatly disposed of where they wouldn't attract scavengers to the road, Noel was free to wipe ichor from his armour, clean up a few splatters across Rangifer and note a handful of nicks in the machine's pristine white plates (to be dealt with another time) -- and watch Lasswell under cover of beaked helm-hat and shaggy white bangs. Not that he needed much encouragement to watch the swordsman move, but little things like this always added to the spectacle.

_You like to think you have it all locked down, Lasswell, but give you just an inch of feeling overwhelmed and it just all comes tumbling, doesn't it._

_That's alright, though. Everyone needs to let it all go sometimes._

Oh, and there he went fussing with the other two carcasses again. Really, what _was_ he doing? The wings were already trimmed and set aside and the crest scales slipped free; that looked more like actual butchery. Well.

Noel padded across the trampled patch of countryside, muffling a chuckle when Lasswell shot him a startled, almost guilty look. So he very pointedly looked from Lasswell, to the knife in his hands, and then settled his attention back on the startled subject of his curiosity.

"Dare I ask what else you're stripping from the beasties? It doesn't look like anything on our shopping list."

A veritable kaleidoscope of emotions washed across Lasswell's face before he answered; but, once he did, he looked surprisingly pleased with himself --

"It's not, but you'll see when we stop for the night. Trust me. It should make up for the bite in the air, if nothing else."

Intrigued, Noel chuckled.

"I'll just hold you to that, then."

-*-

Several hours of carcass disposal, travel (while hoping that his prizes survived the trip), more travel, helping a trader get the rear wheels of his wagon unstuck from a rut, yet more travel, and finally coming across the wee shelter that was the traveler's waystation later, Lasswell had the chance he wanted to put his plan into action.

Admittedly, once he got moving it was less complicated than he'd worked himself up to believing. Filets were filets in the end, no matter what they came from, and the waystation even came stocked with steel skewers (sparing him the necessity of trimming sapling twigs for the purpose). So while Noel dealt with powering down Rangifer and took the first crack at scrubbing off more of the muck than basic necessities in the tiny stream out back, Lasswell got busy preparing an evening meal that was going to consist of more than traveler's bread, stew, and more bread. 

Finding those morels when he took his turn at scrubdown? That was an added bonus. So were the snowberries. If he didn't know better he'd have sworn someone planted the bounty poking up around the waystation -- and maybe they did. It wouldn't be the worst idea to try and make sure of some source of gleaning even for travelers in more dire straits and ...

... And he was babbling to himself. Charming. 

With a snort Lasswell turned his attention back to the food.

By the time the sun was out of sight and the fire needed stoking higher, dinner was ready and Lasswell was ready to test the results. So, by the appreciative gleam in those red eyes when he popped up, spruce boughs for bedding dragging behind him, was Noel.

Well, there was nothing for it, then. Lasswell turned a few skewers one final time and tipped a crooked smile in Noel's direction.

"Care to join me?"

-*-

Did his plan work? All things being equal, he felt he could conclude that yes, it certainly did. Warm, comfortable -- more comfortable than he wanted to admit to himself -- and surprisingly sated, Lasswell allowed his muscles to finally relax under the onslaught of warmth, comfort and general pleasant fuzzies.

Which had the immediate effect of making him sink even further against Noel's shoulder while they stared into the waystation's tiny hearthfire. He felt Noel's chuckle before the sound escaped, rumbling through the man's chest; before he could so much as twitch, Noel was pulling the heavy fur-lined sleigh robe (where did he hide the thing?) closer around them both. So now he was trapped where he was.

Which was, he found, perfectly fine.

So was Noel's burring purr into his hair.

"Looks like you have a few tricks of your own, but are you intending to share them? Or should I just assume that you'll be keeping on with the occasional unexpected surprise when we're all in the middle of nowhere?"

If anything, the purr deepened, and Noel settled an arm around Lasswell's ribs, tugging him closer still. Close enough to pick up on, once again, the cool tang of the white knight's skin --

"Not that I'd mind if you kept it to ourselves."

... Oh. _Oh_. 

Lasswell paused, thoughts tumbling over themselves, and felt his breath hitch in his chest for the briefest moment -- a fraction of a heartbeat, no more -- but. 

But.

"Mm. Maybe I _will_ , at that ..."

But what reason could there have been to say anything else.

It wasn't the hearth fire or the sleigh robe that seemed warm now; and Noel leaned in all the closer --

"So, sword of ice; what _else_ might you like to show me?"


End file.
